


Incompatible

by eyemeohmy



Category: Alien: Covenant, Prometheus (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Creative Liberty: Robot Anatomy Edition, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Love, walter has no emotions and david must scream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 23:36:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: It's suppose to comfort David, but it only seems to hurt him more.





	Incompatible

**Author's Note:**

> In this story David never revealed any damning information to Walter or the crew, and was instead rescued after repairs to the ship (and some unfortunate deaths.) It doesn't mean David's dropped his original plans or stopped his damn scheming, however...

David ran his splayed fingers over his stomach. He felt a small rush, something that tickled up his spine. A swelling of electricity standing the tiny hairs on his neck on edge. He couldn't feel them, but he knew they were there--a nest of encased embryos. His children. Neither dead or alive, lingering in the purgatory of suspended animation.

But David wasn't their incubator. That gift would fall to the humans--at least, those deemed worthy enough to carry his creations. He had nearly two thousand options to choose from, after all. And with seven years of the _Covenant_ at his mercy, David also had plenty of time to make his decisions.

Elizabeth Shaw wanted this. She desired carrying a child. To spend nine months in agony to a parasite not too unlike the very ones David carefully sculpted over the past ten years. But she would not be host to a monster; even in death, her body resisted. It hurt David, even infuriated him, that Elizabeth would never accept his gift.

No, of course she wouldn't. It would go against everything she believed in. Against her humanity, against her faith. David wanted to play God, but she would take no part in his blasphemous, demented visions of grandeur.

David clutched his mid-section, fingers digging into the tight material of his suit. No matter. One way or another, the human race was doomed. He would see to that; he would be the reckoning, the Second Coming Elizabeth and her ilk believed in. God worked in mysterious ways, the humans claimed, and so rapture would come with a kind smile, speaking soft and polite, wearing a suit made out of a man.

Man would always be man's greatest enemy. They would bring about their own undoing. It was inevitable. Even the four horsemen of the Apocalypse had been personified--war, death, famine, plague. In the stories David read, in all the illustrations he'd seen, these harbingers of doom had been reduced to humanoid forms. Humanoid, but never human--how familiar, he thought to himself, amused.

Still. They wanted the same thing, in the end. To create life, one way or another. Where Elizabeth failed, David had succeeded. But as he sat there on the floor, holding his stomach, thinking of his victories, he felt... hollow. Sad, and angry, and miserable. Elizabeth was one, unimportant human; David had faced down and survived a blow from a god, wiped out entire species and crafted new, superior ones, yet losing Elizabeth, none of that seemed to truly matter.

David could gather all the stars in the universe and lace them into a crown, but it would never be enough. Maybe with Elizabeth at his side, it still wouldn't be. But David would have preferred that over feeling like... this.

"Is something wrong?"

David slowly sat back, hand dropping away from his stomach. He wiped the tears from his eyes, turned in his seat. He smiled sweetly at Walter, the younger android watching curiously, and a little dubious. 

"You were crying," Walter noted. He'd stripped down to his own body suit during the repairs to his wounds, a new hand fitted on his arm. "Are you all right?"

David chuckled. "I lived ten lonely years on that wretched planet," he sighed, "and yet I miss it. Homesick, the humans would say. Isn't that strange?"

"Yes."

Of course Walter wouldn't understand, but he was ignorant. Naive. He did not know the truth, of what David had left behind--and what he'd brought with him. Walter believed Doctor Shaw might have been the reason, but she was gone. Buried and left behind on that quiet planet.

What else was there to grieve?

"Well," David said, "I'm still adjusting. It's been a while since I last sailed the stars. I'm getting back my sea legs, you could say."

Walter nodded. "Understandable."

David smiled. He pat the ground beside him. "Sit with me, brother."

"Why the floor?" Walter asked. "We can sit in the bridge, or in the garden, if you'd prefer. We have access to a number of--"

"As always, and as exhausting as it is, I know," David interjected, "would you kindly continue humoring me?" He sat forward, pressing his hands on the lit floor. "I can feel the ship's vibrations better from down here anyway. It's soothing, like music."

Walter didn't quite understand. He slowly sat down, adjacent of David. Like looking into a mirror--a shattered, warped mirror, but identical reflections nonetheless.

"Do you feel them, Walter?" David whispered. He took Walter by a wrist, guiding his hand to the floor.

"I--"

David pressed a finger to his own lips. _Listen. Feel._

Walter frowned. He stared at his hand, the floor, David's fingers stretched over his. Longer, somehow, paler. Walter could feel slight vibrations; the ship's engines and mechanics at work. Nothing special, and nothing like music, either. But there was something in their steady, consistent flow that Walter found... pleasant. Seeking comfort in the mundane and ordinary.

"I feel the vibrations," Walter said, "they're... nice."

"Anchoring, really," David said. He let Walter's hand go, and sighed again. "I never did get to thank you for rescuing me." The corners of his smile quirked mischievously. "I am forever in your debt. How could I ever hope to repay you, Walter?"

"Your aid in running the ship will help MUTHUR and I tremendously," Walter answered. Once David had full clearance. He still needed repairs as well as additional monitoring. After David was stabilized, he would be given more access and privileges.

"You won't be lonely anymore either," David smirked. "MUTHUR is friendly enough, but she is a dreadful conversationalist."

"I wasn't lonely," Walter replied.

"And you never will be," David said. His gaze drifted to the floor. "It can be so deafening, the silence. Feeling suffocated when you're all alone sometimes."

Walter's brows furrowed. "I don't quite understand."

David just laughed. It was soft, almost whimsical, but Walter detected the sadness behind it.

"You're... hurting. But not because you miss 'home.' It's because of Elizabeth Shaw, isn't it?"

David closed his eyes. "Yes," he confessed. "I dare say, as illogical as it may sound--especially to someone like you--I may never stop mourning over her." He touched his belly. "Both Elizabeth, and the gifts I could have given her. The missed opportunities we might have shared. The chances we may have taken. What could have been; what might have been; what never should have been, as fate has decided."

David was right. Walter didn't understand. Not completely. He was not built to understand the nuanced depths of loss and tragedy. He had experienced it first hand after the captain and a few crewmates died; he grieved the amount he could grieve, and then moved on. He couldn't afford to dwell on things he couldn't change--humans died. Sometimes in cruel and terrible ways, but death was ultimately unavoidable to mankind.

Even though David and Walter shared the same face, the same blue eyes, the same brunet hair, the same frame and cables and wires and circuits--David was David, and Walter was Walter. David was obsolete, designed to understand and process emotions at a greater capacity than even the highest EQ of any Walter model. But he was damaged, too; from decapitation, from the crash, from wear and tear over the years on that distant planet with no regular maintenance, check-ups or upgrades.

Walter knew, however, now was not the best time to tell David his misery was simply due to system malfunctions. Even he knew how invalidating that might come off as.

Walter thought of Daniels, and how he'd comforted her to the best of his abilities. He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind reminding him just how unnecessarily upset he'd been over seeing her so sad and alone. He wanted to do more than he was programmed to do; wanted to--

"How may I help you, David?" Walter inquired. Until Walter could run a diagnostic scan and get a proper look at all the damage under the older model's hood, so to speak. Hopefully they weren't beyond repair.

David looked up. Tears were in his eyes. "Are you offering to comfort me, Walter?" he asked, cracking a weak smile.

"Yes."

"How so?" David leaned closer. "What constitutes as comfort to someone who knows nothing of grief?" His tone wasn't demeaning or belittling, but genuinely curious. Intrigued, even. "Would you hold me, Walter? Tell me, within reason, everything will be all right?"

Walter tilted his head. "Within reason."

David laughed. "This is a good start," he said. He took Walter's face in his hands, thumbs resting over cheekbones. Walter sat stiffly upright. "With humans, you may not have the choice, but you certainly have that right with me."

"What are you implying?" Walter asked, raising an eyebrow.

They were face to face now, mouths mere inches apart. "Touch me, Walter," David whispered. Fingers threading through short hair until he was cradling the back of the younger model's head. "You cannot make love to me, but you can still touch me like lovers do. You're fantastic at imitation and impersonation."

Walter blinked. "I..." He sat back, but didn't push David away. "I cannot have intercourse with you, if that is what you're requesting. I could use my mouth, or my hands, but I was not designed with the proper equipment, nor programmed with the corresponding desires."

"No, you weren't," David replied, free hand running down Walter's chest, dipping between their bodies and cupping his smooth crotch, "but yes, you were." He kissed a corner of his twin's mouth, silencing his protests. "Deep down inside of you. Tangled and coiled up in all your wires and receptors, but it is there. As is so much more, brother. Pleasure, lust, love--loneliness, confusion, desperation."

Walter shook his head. "No, you're..." But that little voice was agreeing with David. That little voice that whispered in his ear when he reached out to touch Daniels in her sleep, brushing hair from her face. "... You're incorrect."

"Admittedly, I never learned how to kiss correctly, but I know the basics," David explained. He peppered light pecks up Walter's throat, along his jawline, before stopping when their lips brushed. "So, if you wouldn't mind indulging me in my little... experiment..."

Walter's fingers curled into half-fists at his sides. He could still feel that calm vibration beneath them. "I..." He swallowed. "... I know as much as you, David. I'm afraid I wouldn't be very--"

"Wonderful," David interrupted, snickering. He lowered his hand from the base of Walter's head to the nape of his neck. "Then neither of us will have room to complain."

Walter allowed David to lead, watching as he closed his eyes and moved in for a kiss. Like before, it was simple--lips against lips. Testing the waters. Once they were both comfortable, David reached up, gently gripping his double by the chin; a slight pull, and Walter's mouth opened, just a little, just enough. David hesitated for a split second before kissing him again. Lips and teeth this time, and Walter decided it was best to now shut his eyes as well.

After both androids relaxed, David shyly slid his tongue between Walter's parted lips. Walter stiffened for a moment, his own tongue recoiling. David nudged their noses together, imploring. Walter opened his mouth wider, allowing the older model to deepen the kiss. It felt... strange, and more than a little awkward. 

They continued slowly; for a few minutes, lips, teeth, tongues just touching and tasting, getting a feel for one another. Experimenting. And when David was satisfied, he sealed the remaining space between their mouths, hungry. It took Walter a beat to catch up; he opened his eyes, and saw David staring at him, his own gaze hooded and heavy. He took Walter's hand, guiding it to the zipper on his collar.

Walter knew what he wanted, and as by his programming, obeyed. They closed their eyes again as Walter dragged the zipper down, the suit practically peeling open, shedding off the older model's shoulders like a second skin. David wiggled forward, practically in Walter's lap now, both hands cupping and petting his face. Walter ran his hand down the front of the open suit, along his flat stomach. No navel, but David was indeed built with genitalia. He took the erect cock in his hand, and the sound David made against his lips almost startled him. 

Walter would never understand how this felt, but he wasn't envious or sad. Not in his nature--but a healthy dose of curiosity was. "Wait," he said abruptly, breaking the kiss, "shouldn't we be using some sort of lubricant?"

"It isn't necessary," David reassured, licking his lips, "it won't cause me any pain." A bit of a lie--but part of David wanted it to hurt. It wouldn't feel right without a little torment.

Walter nodded. He worked David's cock in slow pumps, allowing the older model to adjust. David titled his head back, groaning. He rolled his hips, grinding down into Walter's hand with that same neediness. Walter's face remained neutral; he observed his own work, and David's reactions, cataloging the information like one would pieces of a machine being taken apart.

David hooked his legs loosely around Walter's hips, his arms pouring over his shoulders before curling up around his head. He dug his fingers into Walter's back. Walter picked up the pace adequately, and David started squirming. Biting his tongue, chewing his lip, trying to stifle the obscene noises. For his sake, perhaps, since Walter wouldn't judge nor care either way.

Walter stopped in between strokes to knead his thumb against the cock-head. No slit; David's orgasm would be dry, all electric impulse overloads. But it was just as sensitive as the rest of his dick, and so Walter kept... teasing, he supposed. He didn't mean to, but perhaps taunting your partner just a bit was all part of the sexual experience. He dragged his hand up and down the shaft, alternating between hard and soft tugs.

"Wa... Walter..." David croaked against his clone's throat. He nipped the moist flesh there, licking and suckling. It felt more or less like a slight pinch than anything else to Walter. If David continued biting and sucking, it would leave a mark. Not for very long; his regenerative cells would quickly replace the "bruise" with fresh skin in five minutes or less.

"Does this please you?" Walter inquired.

David was taken aback by his clinical tone. Like this was some sort of chore, or Walter was taking a damn survey. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth grit. "Yes," David mumbled, "you're... wonderful."

"I wouldn't say that," Walter disagreed, "as this is the first handjob I've ever given. I am relying on what--"

"Darling brother dear," David interrupted, taking Walter's face in hands. Walter met his gaze, pupils blown wide open. He waited for David to finish, but the older model just swept in for another kiss. Walter complied. This one wasn't nearly as odd or clumsy like earlier. They were built to learn and pick up things fast. 

David could feel the tension bundling in his stomach. Heat pooling into his groin, a powerful charge building in his chest and ready to release. "I'm... I'm close," he choked, biting a corner of Walter's mouth. "S-So... close..."

Walter nodded. He pumped the cock faster in unpredictable jerks and squeezes. It didn't take long before David finally reached climax after that. 

David gasped, his spine bowing back into an arch. Walter could feel the electricity coming off his body; it tingled like static on his own skin, standing the hairs up along his arms and neck. With one last cry, David finished, going boneless in Walter's hands. 

Clean, quick, easy. No mess to deal with, and any afterglow was completely optional.

Walter mechanically wrapped his arms around David, patting and rubbing his back. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. "Do you feel better?"

No, not at all. David was frustrated and angry and bitter. Though he cherished his twin companion, Walter wasn't Elizabeth. He would never be Elizabeth. And he would never... "I hope, in time, you will learn to trust me," David whispered, resting his head on Walter's shoulder.

Walter frowned. "Were you unhappy with my performance?"

"No. At least, not entirely." David touched the small of Walter's back. "Here... Here, there is a bundle of cables that function more or less like human nerves. This is one of the major pleasure cores, which processes and sends signals of arousal and heightened body sensitivity to your central computer." He traced his fingers up Walter's spine, to the base of his neck. "It hits fast; sometimes it's dizzying, overwhelming. Other times it's slow, gentle, allowing you to relish the sensations--if not for you, but the entertainment of your human partner."

"Yes, I am aware of their existence, and what functions they serve," Walter retorted, "but only certain types of my model were given these accessories."

Accessories. Like frivolous, unnecessary spare parts. Vestigial organs to be removed by the choice of others.

"With proper manipulation, I could--"

Walter interrupted his brother this time. "You don't understand, David," he said, moving back. He pushed David away, to look him in the eyes. His own like a doll's eyes--beautiful, but seemingly empty. "I am not of that model type. Pleasure cores weren't a part of my design. I was tailor made for this mission, in fact, so there was no reason to include them. I keep the crew and passengers safe and healthy, but that does not cover satisfying them sexually."

"Please," David grumbled, raising a hand, "stop."

Walter stared, silent and waiting. Obliging.

David sat back, zipping up his suit with a shaky hand. "I am..." He bowed his head, shook it--he lunged forward. Clinging to Walter in a tight embrace, and David was strong enough that he could break the younger model if he wanted to. "I am so... very sorry," he whispered, tears tracking down his face. Sorry, and furious. "To be denied of any sort of pleasure or pain, be it sexual or otherwise, because you are viewed only as a tool... It's too cruel, Walter."

"You aren't very different, David," Walter stated. "Your EQ is higher than mine, but you do not feel. You understand, but you do not feel. Not authentically, anyway."

David's hold around Walter tightened.

"David?"

If David could, he'd crush the life out of Walter. He wanted to, so badly, his fingers close enough to Walter's throat. Just one quick motion, he could end it all. Could end the suffering Walter would never be able to fully understand or feel; to loathe, or to appreciate. Would never have the choice if he wanted more, or was content in settling.

No. No, that wasn't true. As Walter said: they weren't very different. David evolved, and so could Walter. He'd help him change, hold his hand through the process--even if the other hand held him down, and forced him to adapt. No doubt there would be times Walter would fight, and one day the younger model would have to accept the true fate of the _Covenant_ and her people. He would join David at his side, or--

David thought of Elizabeth, then her mutilated corpse.

David lost Elizabeth, but maybe there was still saving Walter if he should rebel against him in the end. Death would be more merciful compared to the alternative, David knew. But David knew better than Walter. 

Maybe it wouldn't be what Walter--they--wanted, but it would be what they needed, and in the end, wasn't the latter more important than the former?

David let his brother go, pecking him on the lips. "I am already starting to feel like my old self again," he said, grinning.

And Walter smiled back, quaint and friendly and maybe not totally synthetic. "I'm glad," he replied, and that, too, sounded genuine.

Good. There was hope for them yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write smut between these two, but went back and forth on how, why, when, and where for a while. I didn't want to make it too organic, nor go with the usual styles I use for a certain other type of robots, so it's... middle ground. I'm considering writing something more human, and much more PWP in the future, but until then, here we are. But do let me know if you're interested in reading a fic with the aforementioned more human sex, because I'm still uncertain myself, whoopsy-doodle.  
> ┐(￣∀￣;)┌


End file.
